


Bruised Peach

by professorfishass



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Dubious Consent, M/M, See chapter summary for warnings, Worst Thing I've Ever Written, ok, this is so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:07:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23335864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/professorfishass/pseuds/professorfishass
Summary: Someone slips something into Travis' drink and now his boner won't go away.aka Travis NEEDS to fuck or he might actually die.or really just an excuse for me to practice writing smut.
Relationships: Travis Konecny/Nolan Patrick
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this story has dubious consent. It contains a character who has been drugged and another character who is uncertain.

Nolan’s not sleeping anyway. Just lying there in bed. Even though his head is dead tired after coming down off another Headache from Hell, his body’s all jittery from oversleeping. 

So yeah, not doing anything.

He’s still _really_ fucking pissed to hear the frantic knocking at his door at around one in the morning.

Who else would it be but Travis at this time of night? He doesn’t even have to look through the peephole to know. Something seems off when Travis knocks, though, instead of barging in like usual. It’s a little worrying, actually. 

“Didn’t I give you a key?” Nolan bitches as the door swings open, squinting out into the brightly lit hallway.

Travis is there in his sleep clothes, arms wrapped around his middle and face flushed. Bouncing in place like it hurts to sit still.

“I don’t feel so good, Patty.” He answers, voice quaking as he says it. His eyes are all watery like he’s trying not to cry and, yeah, it’s too fucking early for this.

“And you brought it here, motherfucker?” Is what comes out of Nolan’s mouth, and _Jesus fuck_ Travis’ face crumples like he’s going to let loose some tears.

“ _Pat.”_ He whines.

And something about the urgency of his tone makes Nolan go silent and move out of the way to let him in.

“Something’s wrong.” Travis continues as Nolan wordlessly steps forward to rest a hand on his forehead. “I’m so hot!”

“You’re _burning.”_ Nolan corrects.

“I was fine all day. I went out with the boys –“

“Yeah, I know.” Nolan cuts him off, not to be rude, but to get him to the point faster. He’d been invited on the little outing but had felt too shitty to get out.

“Y-yeah and I’d been _fine._ Then when I got home, I started to feel weird and it’s got worse by the second since.”

“You started feeling bad after going out?” Nolan asks, trying to subtly push Travis toward the couch.

Travis nods, sinking down against the cushions without any resistance. He grimaces as some type of pain courses through him, hands clenching and unclenching in barely reigned in panic.

“You eat something bad?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You work out too hard?”

“No.”

Nolan goes silent because he doesn’t want to say what he thinks next. Half because he doesn’t want to freak Travis out any more than he already is and half because he doesn’t like thinking of someone taking advantage of Travis so easily.

“You leave your drink out at the bar?” He asks after a moment.

“What?”

“Did you walk away from your drink, Travis?” 

“Well, yeah, but – “

“Idiot.”

“ – I’m not a girl, Pat!”

“What does that matter?”

Travis’ hand rests on his stomach and he takes a few shivery breaths, obviously breathing through another contraction of pain. His eyes screw shut and his head falls back against the couch.

“You think someone roofied me?” He asks from between gritted teeth.

Nolan doesn’t answer that directly, instead: “Maybe I should take you to the ER.”

“No!” Travis’ eyes pop open and he pitches forward.

“Why not?”

“What if someone did roofie me? I can’t let people see me like this.”

“Okay. Then tell me what you want to do.”

Travis looks at him with the same watery expression from the front door. 

“Can I stay with you?” He asks, tone wobbly.

Nolan hadn’t planned on letting him go anywhere else anyway. 

“Okay.”

~

Nolan get’s Travis laid up in his bed on top of the covers and one of Nolan’s cooling night masks covering his eyes.

“It burns here.” Travis explains pitifully, motioning from his chest down through his stomach. He’s taken off his shirt and the flush from his cheeks is working its way down to his neck and chest. “It hurts on the inside, Nol.”

“I don’t know what to do.” Nolan admits, feeling desperate but trying his hardest not to let it show. He feels useless standing there with a glass of water and Tylenol, watching as Travis pretty much cries himself to sleep. “I really think we should go to the hospital.”

This must be the dozenth time Nolan has brought the hospital up and every time Travis howls the same negative at him.

“No! I can’t go to the damn hospital. For the last fucking time!” There’s no heat behind the exclamation, it fizzles out as Travis turns away on to his other side and hugs Nolan’s pillow tight against his abdomen. 

At a loss for what to do or say, Nolan sits the glass of water and Tylenol on the nightstand and goes to the living room, leaving the bedroom door cracked open. He takes the throw blanket draped on the back of the couch and lays down against the cushions, lying a hand over his eyes. He’ll call Claude in the morning if Travis is still sick. Force him to the hospital if he gets any worse.

And, _fuck,_ he can feel another headache coming on.

Turning so that he’s facing the back of the couch, he presses his face into the cushions and just tries to fucking _sleep._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please come visit me on tumblr @glassbanger666

It feels like he’s only been asleep for mere minutes before:

“Patty.”

“Mmm…” Nolan groans, not exactly processing that it’s Travis at first. Stuck between sleeping and wakefulness. Tired to his bones and head throbbing.

“Nolan.” Travis tries again, louder. Breathy and desperate.

Nolan wakes hearing that tone. Turning over and coming face to face with the tented seam of Travis’ sleep pants. 

“Whoa. What the fuck, man.” He snaps up into a sitting position, pushing the throw down onto his lap. He rubs at his eyes as his head spins for a moment.

“I-it won’t go away.” Travis explains quietly. His bare chest is heaving and he’s bright red right down to his belly button. “It hurts so bad, Nol.”

“What the fuck you want me to do about it?” Nolan stands and backs up to put some distance between them because, boy, does that thing seem to be leering at him. “You should’ve let me take you to the hospital.”

“No! Nolan, please.” 

“Please what?”

“Please just…” There’s a pause. Travis puts his hand over himself and pushes down like he can will himself flaccid. “Please help me.”

Nolan watches the motion, in shock. He can’t believe Travis would be so bold. It must hurt really bad to come right out and ask him like this. He’s struck dumb and his mouth snaps open and shut like a fish.

“What could I do?” He asks stupidly, still staring at the tent Travis is pitching in his sleep pants.

Travis grunts, half in what seems like frustration and half in pain. His legs squeeze together and he all but claws at his junk. 

“C’mon man. Please!” 

Nolan’s still staring dumbly, mouth going dry from how long he’s had it hanging open. He can’t actually do this… can he? He’s fumbled around with guys before but no one he’s close to. Then again, there’s never been an occasion like this. He wonders how long this would go on if he just left Travis be; what the health risks could be.

“I’ll get on the floor and beg.” Travis sniffles, eyes leaking actual tears. Goddamn. “I’ll fucking kiss your feet, man. I’ll promise you _anything_ at this point. Just, please, give me a hand.”

Nolan’s suddenly scared.

“Okay.” He says and he doesn’t even get to finish the word before Travis is in front of him dropping his sweats and boxers in one go.

And suddenly Nolan is eye to eye with angriest, purplest dick he’s ever seen. It bounces a little where it catches on the waistband of Travis’ underwear before it settles. It’s vein-y and wet and Nolan swears he can see it pulsing at him. Straining out like it’s reaching for him.

He licks his lips unconsciously, but Travis doesn’t miss it. He keens pitifully from above and Nolan’s hand shoots out to hang halfway there in response. Damnit, does he really want to do this?

He chances a glance up at Travis’ face and immediately regrets it because he’s still crying, blubbering and cross eyed and muttering _c’mon, c’mon, c’mon_ under his breath. 

“Fuck it.” Nolan whispers to himself and reaches out the rest of the way to grab hold of Travis at the root.

It’s hot and pulsing in his hand. Already glistening at the tip. He feels like he could _look_ at it some type of way and Travis could blow. 

“Yes!” Travis cries above him, curling in so that his chest is practically touching Nolan’s forehead. “Please, please, please, oh God, please.”

His pleas repeat like a mantra as Nolan’ begins to stroke him. Loose on the downstroke, tighter on the upstroke, twisting slightly at the head. There’s so much precum weeping out that they almost don’t need lube just for a handy, but Nolan doesn’t want anything to chafe, so he stops.

“Wuh…” Travis is tight jawed and incoherent, wound so tight that he must hold onto Nolan’s shoulders to keep from pitching forward.

“Do you have any lube?” Nolan asks, standing up. He grabs onto Travis’ forearms as he goes so he won’t fall.

“Nightstand.” Travis quibbles, fumbling along as Nolan pulls him toward his bedroom.

Once in the bedroom, Nolan deposits Travis onto the bed and retrieves the tube of lube from the top shelf of the nightstand. He squirts some on to the middle of his hand, smooths it around, and gets his hand back on Travis.

Travis’ legs shake like a dog who’s getting scratched in _just the right_ spot. He’s practically spewing precum onto Nolan’s hand, so much so that it leaks down his wrist. The poor guy’s stomach muscles won’t unlock from how hard he’s straining.

“Just relax.” Nolan tries to shush him, reaching up with his free hand to smooth over his tight abs. 

Travis’ whole body is hot and flush with fever, searing under Nolan’s hands. He falls back to lay down with his legs hanging off the bed. He’s warring with himself to keep his eyes clamped shut or watch what Nolan’s doing, resulting in him moving up and down like he’s doing sit-ups. 

“Please, Nolan.” There’s nothing to beg for now other than the pure urge to. Nolan’s already got his hands on him, trying to soothe where it’s impossible to. “Nolan, I gotta.”

Somehow Nolan’s already moving to answer his plea before he finishes it, licking his lips and leaning forward to take Travis’ head between his lips. Sucking oh so gently, just to let Travis get used to the new intensity.

“God!” Travis howls, snapping up into a sitting position, hands automatically going to rest on the crown of Nolan’s head.

It doesn’t take anything else and he’s cumming all over Nolan’s chin, into the tips of his hair, and his fist.

“Shit, shit, shit!” He blubbers, twitching all over, still holding onto Nolan’s head.

It takes him nearly a full minute to come down, writhing and moaning the whole way. Nolan stays kneeling between his legs, head bowed from where Travis has a vice-like grip on his hair.

“Feel better?” He calls up, wiping at his chin with the back of his hand.

“I th-think so.” Travis stutters, finally letting go of Nolan in favor of laying back down on the bed. He’s drenched in sweat, but he can’t make his legs move from their hanging position. 

Nolan wipes his hand on the bedspread as he crawls up to lay down next to Travis. He lies on his side, hand coming up to rest low on Travis’ abdomen. He ignores the small ache of his own erection chafing on the inside of his briefs. 

He curls into the heat Travis is giving off and finally, finally goes to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

But he’s not asleep for long.

Not a half hour later Travis has him on his back and is two fingers deep inside him, thrusting his arm like he’s trying to dislocate it.

“Whoa. Hey.” Nolan placates, reaching down between his legs to put a hand on Travis’ wrist. “Shh. Take your time.”

“I’m sorry, Patty.” Travis snivels, shaking so hard that Nolan can feel Travis’ hand quaking _inside_ himself. “I’m trying. I’m really trying.”

“You’re good. Just don’t go so fast one of us gets hurt.”

“Okay.” He takes a steadying breath. “Okay.”

What is actually a half-baked fingering job seemingly takes hours to get through, when in reality it’s only been five minutes. Travis’ fingers wiggle and scissor as he moves them in and out of Nolan. All the while, he’s continuously shaking with barely held restraint and scalding excitement.

“I can take another one.” Nolan clarifies, coming up onto his elbows to meet Travis’ gaze, which had previously been fixed on the place where his fingers disappear into Nolan.

“Okay, yeah, okay.” 

Sure, maybe Nolan can take another, but Travis feels like he’s melting, stuck between wanting it so bad he’s scared of it and the urge to throw caution to the wind and romp Nolan like a rabid dog.

When he’s had enough, Nolan wordlessly rolls over onto his hands and knees, leg brushing Travis’ engorged junk on the way. This results in Travis humping the air, canting his hips frantically forward.

“Just take it slow.” Nolan reminds over his shoulder. “You’ll get there.”

But Travis is already squirting way too much lube onto his dick and mounting him to care about whatever the fuck Nolan just said. 

“Are you sure about this?” Travis asks, one final question that he can barely make. His voice squeaks and his muscles spasm as he holds himself _so close_ to Nolan’s entrance.

“Yeah, man.” Nolan answers quietly, rolling back onto his knees more so that the crease of his ass is right against Travis’ dick. “Take what you need.”

Travis doesn’t exactly _plunge_ into Nolan as he very firmly _pushes_ because he may be out of his mind with horniness and burning heat but he’s not an asshole, okay. The feeling that follows is absolute heaven. Nolan is so warm and so _tight_ that Travis thinks he might cry. And, after a few moments of sitting their completely still, shaking like a goddamn leaf, he realizes that he _is_ crying.

“You okay back there?” Nolan voice is trembly and straining high in his throat. His hole flutters around Travis as he experimentally clenches down.

“Fine.” Travis whines, folding forward so that his chest is to Nolan’s shoulder blades.

“Okay, okay.” He adjusts himself on his hands. “You can move, then.”

“Okay, yeah.”

The first pull out and push in is incredibly slow. It feels so good it hurts almost. Nolan’s body fucks like it’s made especially for it, gripping firmly so that it almost feels like it’s pulling Travis back in when he pulls out.

Nolan reaches back a hand to rest on Travis’ burning thigh, urging him on. It takes Travis a few strokes to get some confidence, but he gets there and soon he’s fucking into Nolan with short, firm bursts. His dick finding Nolan’s prostate occasionally, enough to set Nolan off leaking against the sheets. 

He nuzzles his sweaty head between Nolan’s shoulder blades before pressing a kiss there. He picks up speed, finally taking what he actually needs. The burn of his fever intensifies as he does. The sound of slapping skin compels him onward, however.

Nolan puts a hand on the headboard as Travis speeds up. He’s being fucked up the bed, each thrust threatening to bang his head against the wood. His head hangs down between his shoulders and he catches a glimpse of his own cock. It’s nearly purple now, hanging stiff and heavy, and slapping up against his lower belly each time Travis slams home. There’s a constant stream of precum weeping from the head, punched out of him. Normally the quiet type, there’s a litany of long, low sounds escaping from his throat despite him.

“It’s good, huh? Right?” Travis breathes against Nolan’s neck. He holds fast onto Nolan’s hips too, bruising him like a fucking peach.

“Y-yuh…” It’s Nolan’s turn to be dumbfucked, barely holding onto Travis’ words to understand them.

“I think…” He ruts into Nolan. Not exactly thrusting anymore because there’s no pull out, just a repeated push upward like he’s trying to dig himself further and further into Nolan’s guts. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

Nolan stops holding onto the headboard to take his own dick in hand. Rubbing furiously alongside Travis’ thrusts. Within a minute he’s cumming all over himself, down his fist and onto the sheets.

Travis follows close after, beckoned by the earnest grip of Nolan’s hole around him. 

“Fuck!” He yells over Nolan’s whining under him. 

After a few fucks forward to settle, Travis pulls out to get a look at his handiwork on Nolan’s hole. Pink and glistening. Winking open and closed at the loss of Travis’ dick. 

“Thank you, God. Thank you.” He sighs, hand coming up to rest on one of Nolan’s ass cheeks.

“My name’s Nolan, thanks.” Nolan mumbles from where he’s collapsed against the pillows. “Feel better? For real this time?”

“I think so…” Travis crawls to lay down next to Nolan, face to face. Nolan’s flushed more so than him now and his eyes look heavy. “We gonna talk about this?”

“Yeah, sure.” Nolan deadpans. “Don’t leave your damn drink out anymore.”

“I’m being serious.”

“Okay. In the morning. Let me fucking sleep.”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay. feel free to tell me how bad this was or how i can make future works better. my style is obviously very clipped and dialogue driven. i'm trying to change that.


End file.
